Your thoughts on conserving water?
by omgwtfdondake
Summary: Fang asks. Lightning answers.


**.:.::**_** "Your thoughts on conserving water?" **_**::.:.**_**  
**_

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Only Fang could've have taken a such a serious question and turned into a situation like this. The thought flickered through Lightning's clouded mind as she was pressed against the wet shower wall by the warrior in question. Yes, take anything, anything at all and Fang could make it beyond sexy without a second thought. She was good with that. You know what else the raven-haired seductress was good with? Her hands.

Skilled fingertips danced across every inch of the soldier's body. The water from the shower doing little to douse the trail of heat they left behind. With each stroke, each tantalizing touch, the heat spread through Lightning's body and soul, straight to her core. It felt like if there were any more contact, she'd burst into flames—and she wouldn't mind one bit. She wanted more, needed more. But Fang was doing what she did best, teasing her.

It wasn't enough. Agile fingers were in all the right places but never for long enough. Were she not pinned against the slick tiles, Lightning would have been arching into Fang, her body saying what she could—would—never say aloud. She needed more. But the Gran Pulsian held her firmly in place with her own body. Taut muscles masked under a softness only the pinkette knew; like her fingers, were Fang to pull it away, the Lightning felt she may very well die.

Cerulean eyes fluttered closed as the soldier felt Fang's breath at her ear. Despite herself, she welcomed more of the warrior's body against hers as she felt that trademark grin on the lips moving against her ear. Teeth gently nipping at the tip, the flick of a tongue gently teasing the sensitive spot behind it. The pinkette whimpered at the low whisper of her name as Fang toyed with her. With another scrape of teeth on her ear, the pinkette managed to mumble something akin to a curse or two, followed by a halfhearted demand for the Oerban to cease her teasing and take her—only in not so many words or at least not as coherently.

But it was understood nonetheless. Lightning's eyes shot open and her hips involuntarily bucked against Fang as the warrior did just that. When had her hands-? Oh goddess- The pinkette saw stars as nimble fingers touched her body where no one else had—where no one else possibly could now that it had known Fang's touch. Lightning immediately found herself moving against the contact, her body craving more and more. Slow and sensual at first, then faster and harder, the pinkette rode wave after wave of pleasure that swept through her body.

Her own fingers found their way into Fang's hair, wet and matted against her neck and back. They tangled themselves in wet locks. Her lips found the Oerban's, kissing them hard. With every other thrust of Fang's fingers, Lightning breathed a moan into the warrior's mouth, accompanied occasionally by a nip at the taller woman's lip.

Before long, Lightning was seeing stars. No, more than stars. She could've sworn she saw the entirety of the damn universe as she succumbed to the total and complete envelopment of her body by the torrent of pleasure Fang had orchestrated. And in the heat of that moment, the pinkette felt complete, nothing else mattered because nothing else existed for her. Nothing but Fang's touch.

Eventually, as the soldier began to regain at least some semblance of her senses there was a soft laugh from the warrior. Clouded blue eyes drifted down from the white of the bathroom ceiling and focused through the steam at the emerald orbs that bore straight through to her soul. Eventually Lightning recovered enough to see the sparkle behind Fang's eyes accompanied by the subtle smirk on her lips. That playful look of self-satisfaction and pride. She'd seen it before in vastly different yet equally... physically exerting situations. It was the same sort of look the warrior got when she'd won a fight or gotten her way—usually with Lightning herself. It irked the pinkette in those situations, and the soldier soon found it irked her just as much then.

Forcing her body into action, and almost reluctantly shaking off the aftershocks of pleasure, Lightning pushed off the wall, against Fang, maneuvering around the warrior and effectively reversing their positions against the shower door. Only She had Fang pinned with her back against her. She successfully incited a surprised gasp from the Oerban. Her lips formed her own smile as they traced the other woman's shoulder and neck, her hands doing the same down Fang's sides.

More or less like every other part of her, Lightning's fingers were different from Fang's. The moved differently. They moved with purpose, calculated, with every intention to hit all the right spots and nothing else. And no movements were wasted as the pinkette used every heated sigh from the other woman, every quiver of the warrior's body to lead her fingers to them. Yes, Lightning would make Fang see, she'd make her moan, make her beg for more.

Within moments, like everything else between the soldier and warrior, this had turned into a battle. Constantly in competition, always fighting for dominance, as if settling for anything less wasn't good enough. It was who they were, individually and together. And neither of them would have had it any other way.

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**A/N :.**

So much for conserving water...

Yeah... stuff like this is what keeps me from finishing stuff like _AlterXIII_...  
I blame that one video on YouTube. Y'all know which one I'm talkin' bout hahh.

Damn you, YouTube...


End file.
